


Bed Unrest

by wolfypuppypiles



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Hurt, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Passing Out, Protective Tony Stark, Swearing, Vomit, Whump, Worried Tony, dad tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-25 07:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17720990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfypuppypiles/pseuds/wolfypuppypiles
Summary: “Bed rest. Are you serious?”Tony crossed his arms, watching Peter kick at his blankets, bandage around his ankle itching. “Yes. Peter, you bruised your kidneys, that's not something to mess around with.”But would he mess around with it anyway? Yes. Of course he would its Peter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't posted anything in ages this took a while so I hope you like it?

“We have the east end cleared. Prisoners are secure.”

 

Tony flew over the last of the prisoners, watching as Natasha herded them back towards their cells. “Yeah, we’re just getting the rest of them back in now.”

 

A prison riot wasn’t a typical Tuesday morning mission but when the prisoners were bigger level bad guys than usual, it kind of took the Avengers notice. 

“Tony, I need you down here.” Rhodey sounded grim, waiting below on the ground and Tony quickly sped down to meet him. 

“What is it? We miss someone?”

The other man shook his head, looking tense as he took his friend's shoulder in hand. “Tones, I’m going to tell you something and you’ll want to freak out but you have to stay calm because it’s under control and it’s going to be fine.” 

Tony clenched his hands into fists, teeth grinding together as his anxiety skyrocketed in an instant. “You better explain that right now.” 

Rhodes sighed, hand dropping away. He knew that Tony would freak out no matter how he said it, there was no point in trying to be coy. “Peter was knocked down but he’s-“ 

Tony didn’t wait for him to finish. Peter was hurt, that's all he needed to know. He flew off, heart pounding as he raced to the kid, almost falling out of the sky when he saw him. 

He was sprawled on the concrete, back propped up against Steve’s chest as he knelt behind him. Steve was holding one of Peters shaking hands, the other cupped around Peters weak fingers, holding an oxygen mask to the boys face. 

He looked dazed and pained, eyebrows pinched in discomfort as he dragged in wheezed breaths. Tony ran straight over, gathered Avengers turning his way but Peter spoke before he could even open his mouth. 

“Mr Stark, I’m okay. I promise-“ 

Worry made Tony's voice rise, finger pointing to the kid as he practically yelled. “What happened? What did you do!?” 

Rhodey was there beside him, hand on his arm again. “Nothing, Tony calm down, he’s okay.” 

“He’s not okay! Look at him!” Peters Spider-Man mask was off, clutched tightly in Natasha's hand where she knelt at Peters side, rubbing his knee in comfort. Without his mask on Tony could see every scrape and bruise on the kid's face. 

His left eye was swelling, as was his cheekbone, grazed and sore. He tried again, even as he pressed the mask close and dragged in oxygen between every other word. 

“It’s not that...bad it barely...even hurts I just got w-winded. It’s okay.” 

Tony couldn’t take it anymore, voice rising in panic and anger, all eyes turning to him, shocked. “Stop saying it’s okay! It’s not okay! You got hurt!”

He turned to the others, pointing an accusing finger at the startled Avengers. “And you guys had enough time to get Bruce here with an oxygen tank and you didn’t tell me sooner?!"

Natasha stood, hands out to placate as she tried to explain. 

“We had a mission to finish, Tony. If it had been serious we would have-“

Tony only grew more irate, voice rising louder, making Peter wince. “This isn’t serious? He can’t breathe!”

Peter sat up, reaching for Tony to try and calm him, but the movement sent pain stabbing through his chest and he groaned. All eyes immediately went back to the teenager and Tony dropped to his knees beside him, grabbing one of his hands as Steve held the oxygen mask back to Peters' face. 

Tony felt awful, squeezing Peters hand as he profusely apologised. “Okay, I’m sorry just stop moving. God, Peter you scared me.” 

The boys face crumpled in pain and guilt sweat breaking out across his forehead as he drew in shallow, strained pants.

“I know...I’m sorry.”

Tony dropped his head, sighing. Peters' hand was still shaking and each of his wheezed breaths sounded so painful that Tony didn’t want to add to his discomfort by having to worry about him. 

“No, it’s not your fault. Rhodey said you were down and I panicked just...stay still okay? And stop talking, concentrate on breathing.”

Peter nodded squeezing his eyes shut as he finally did as he was told. Steve mumbled reassurances into his ear, cheek pressed close to Peters' head and the kid nodded at whatever he was saying, hands squeezing Tony and Steve’s tight. 

Bruce knelt close, Steve looking over to him as he explained, hand rubbing soothingly over Peters' chest as the boy whimpered. “Muscle spasms in his back. He said he was hit a few times by some of the bigger inmates.”

Bruce frowned, peering down at his tablet, looking over the information Karen was sending from the kid's suit. Tony watched him carefully, anxiety growing at his expression, but it cleared into a gentle smile when he turned to Peter. 

“Okay, Buddy I know you’re in pain and you want to get out of here but I’m really not comfortable with you moving around until I get you back to the med bay. So, I’m going to have Steve and Natasha help you onto the stretcher and we’ll take you to the quinjet, okay?”

Peter opened his eyes a sliver, watching Bruce trustingly as he nodded, feet kicking restlessly on the tarmac. Bruce held his tablet close as Sam pulled the stretcher towards them. “I don’t want you doing any of the work, do you understand? Just let them get you settled and focus on breathing through the pain. We’ll get some meds sorted once I’ve made a full assessment.”

Tony reluctantly let go of Peters' hand as he and Bruce stood back, watching Steve slip an arm under the boy's knees. 

“What’s it looking like?” Tony wanted to take the tablet from Bruce’s hands and take a look himself but he knew he likely wouldn’t understand a lot of it anyway. 

Bruce sighed, gesturing to the heroes in front of them as Peter cried out in pain, Steve settling him on the stretcher as Natasha hauled up the oxygen tank and placed it between his knees. 

“Well, there's the usual minor concussion three broken ribs and sprained left ankle-” Tony almost laughed at how sad it was for that to be their ‘usual’. “-but what I’m really worried about is the bruised kidneys. I won’t know more until I get a CT and MRI but I want to be cautious until we do.”

Steve was still holding Peters hand as they laid the kid back and pulled straps over him before pulling the stretcher to the jet. Tony and Bruce followed, Tony clenching his hands rhythmically in an anxious habit. “Is it serious?”

Bruce wasn’t one to putter around bad news by giving out false expectations and he tilted his head, considering. “Hmm, it can be. The main concern is functionality and internal bleeding. He does seem to be in significant pain but he isn’t vomiting and his blood pressures holding steady enough so, I don’t think it’s severe.”

Tony nodded and followed him into the jet, taking a seat beside Peter and taking the kids hand, not letting go for the entire flight back. 

Bruce was all business as soon as they got back to the compound, ordering people around and mind racing with everything he needed to be done. “Get him into imaging, I need to get a look at his kidneys.”

Peter gripped the rail of the bed as they rolled him down the hall, and he groaned, thumping his head back against the pillows. “It hurts!”

Bruce tapped at his screen before rubbing a comforting hand over Peters' knee. “I know, Bud. I’ll get you some pain meds right after these scans. I need to make sure it's not too serious.”

Tony followed behind the stretcher, unable to do much to help and hating it. He couldn't hold the kid's hand without the possibility of Peter crushing it, he couldn't help the kid like Bruce could and Steve and Natasha had a way of staying calm no matter how scary the situation was. Tony had anxiety and zero super strength or PHDs in anything medicinal. He couldn't help. 

Peter groaned again, the low growl slipping into a whimper as the stretcher was pulled against a wall. His wide eyes were wet and scared and they searched the room for the one person he wanted more than anything. 

“Mr Stark!” 

He reached for him, hair stuck up in unruly loops and Tony made his way over without a second thought. “I’m here, kiddo. You’re okay.”

Natasha and Steve were gently but quickly pulling Peters suit off but the teenager didn't take his eyes off his mentor. “I can’t focus. My senses are just-” He broke off with another cry of pain as his sprained ankle was pulled from the suit but Tony knew what he was trying to say. 

There was too much noise, too many people touching him, too much pain to focus on just one thing and it was overwhelming. He needed to focus. Tony could do that. 

“Okay, you’re okay. Come here.” Tony shuffled up the bed, the others moving around him as they pulled the x-ray machine over and positioned it. He leaned down and slipped a hand under Peters' head, pressing his temple to Peters so that his mouth was close to his ear. 

“Close your eyes and focus on me, Pete. Just breathe nice and slow.” His other hand brushed Peters hair back in slow rhythmic strokes. It was like a bubble was created around the two of them, that blocked out everything else and just held the two of them in the calm and quiet.

Tony heard Peters panicked, strained breathing slow in his ear, smoothing out into even, deep breaths. “That's it, there you go. You’re okay, Pete. I’m right here.”

Peter calmed down and by the time Tony pulled back the scans were done and Bruce was taping an IV down to his patient's arm. “There was a little bit of internal bleeding but nothing we can’t control. I’m giving you something to help with the pain, so you should start to feel better soon.”

Peter sighed as he felt the cool flush of medication run through his veins and he let his eyes slip closed to the feeling of Tony's thumb stroking his temple. 

:::::::::::::::::::::::

“Bed rest. Are you serious?”

Tony crossed his arms, watching Peter kick at his blankets, bandage around his ankle itching. “Yes. Peter, you bruised your kidneys, that's not something to mess around with."

The teenager sunk back into his pillows and glared up at the glow in the dark covered ceiling. Being put on bed rest sucked but at least he was staying in his own room and not the infirmary. 

“What is there to mess around with? I’m fine. It’s not like walking to the kitchen and back is going to kill me.”

Tony rolled his eyes and fussed with Peters blankets, tucking them around the kid's feet and pulling them high up on his chest to cover the bruises painted brightly through pale skin. “Peter, I’m sure one day you’ll graduate college with more doctorates than Bruce but until then I’m taking his word over yours. I don’t need any more stress right now, okay? Pepper is off in Paris for a charity ball, thing...whatever, which means I have to take all the business calls and meetings. I have enough on my plate without worrying about whatever stupid thing you want to do to get yourself hurt again. So, just stay here and heal, please.”

Peter sighed, relenting as Tony tucked him in. “Fine. I’ll stay in my bed doing nothing for a whole week.” He was grumpy and sulking but Tony was all out of lectures so, he just smiled like he believed him and bent down to kiss his forehead. 

“Good. Have fun. I’ll come down to have lunch with you later.”

Peter groaned and wiped his forehead, pouting but Tony could see the slight blush on Peters cheeks that told him he secretly loved the doting. 

He went to leave, waving as he made his way through the door. “Be good!”

Peter groaned again. “Whatever.”

It didn’t take long for Peter to get bored. Even with the Avengers coming in to check on him and Ned sending Snapchats, he wanted nothing more than to get out of bed. 

Mr Stark tended to keep a close eye on Peter, especially after being injured so, really he shouldn’t have been surprised when an alarm went off. All he’d done was put his feet on the ground and start to stand when something started beeping and he heard Tony running for his room. 

“Dang it! Friday, turn the alarm off!” He was about to swing his legs back onto the bed when his kidneys protested, pain seizing in his back. His knees almost buckled from the pain and he grabbed at the sheets, only managing to pull them from the bed as he slipped to the carpeted floor.

“Peter?!”

The teenager wrapped his arms around his middle, carefully sticking his bandaged foot out on the carpet so he wouldn’t strain it. “I’m fine!"

He could hear Tony’s quick feet stomp against the carpet as he ran in, hands slapping the wood of the doorway before he spotted Peter on the other side of the bed. 

He ran in and knelt by the boy, hands out to make sure he wasn’t hurt. 

“What are you doing getting out of bed? I told you to stay put!”

Peter pushed his words out with a groan as Tony helped him off the floor and back into bed. “Sorry, my butt was going numb.”

Tony pressed him back into the bed and gently lifted his sore ankle up onto the mattress, warm palm finding the back of Peters' neck when he hissed in pain. “You're lucky to still have a butt, Pete. Easy, easy.”

Peter closed his eyes, taking measured, careful breaths in between pale lips. “How did...ugh...you even know I’d gotten up?”

Tony watched him, eyebrows crowded over his worried eyes. “I put a monitor on the mattress to let me know every time you took your butt off it. You okay?”

Peter nodded as the pain passed and he slumped into his pillows, exhausted. “You worry way too much.”

Tony pulled the blankets back up the teenager's chest and tucked him back in, shaking his head. “I worry the exact right amount for someone that has you around. You have to take better care of yourself, Pete. What would I do if something happened to you?”

That was a low blow. His quiet voice pierced right through the young hero and he looked away, hand catching Tony's before it could retreat from his blanket. “...I’m...I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful.”

Tony looked down at the hand Peter was holding and turned his hand in his grip, squeezing tight. “You better be, or I’ll tie you to this bed myself and you’ll be grounded forever. Now, stay in bed, please. I’ll bring you some lunch later. Get some rest or something.”

Peter was glad to hear Tony’s tone brighten into something playful and he let go of his hand, a small smile pulling at his mouth as he nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

Peter wanted to do as he was told. He didn’t want to worry Tony or see that almost haunted look on his face but when someone asks for help he couldn't deny them. Not when they were screaming for it. 

If he hadn’t been Spider-Man he wouldn't have heard it, wouldn’t have even woken up, but he was Spider-Man. Peter jolted upright in his bed, a woman's scream pulling him from dreams and into the waking world where danger awaited. His spine was lit up with what felt like electricity, his spidey senses making every hair on his arms stand on end. Someone needed him. 

In his injured state, he should have called for help and let someone else deal with it. But there was no time, the police would take forever to get there and anyone else in the compound wouldn't even know where the trouble was. 

What if he let someone else handle it and they were too late? It would be another Uncle Ben that the world would lose, another loved one that a family would have to bury. He couldn’t sit by and do nothing. He knew where the scream had come from and he knew what he had to do. 

Peter reached a hand down to search for the monitor Tony had told him about, finding the device easily and crushing it between his fingers. With that done he turned an innocent face to the ceiling where Friday was monitoring everything as usual. 

“Fri, I’m gonna take a shower but I promise I’ll use the stupid seat thing so, I’m not on my feet too long. Don’t wake Mr Stark. He needs to sleep.”

“Okay, Peter.”

His shower alibi would give him some time before anyone realised something was wrong but he’d still have to be careful. 

He pushed up from his bed and made it to the bathroom which he had insisted Mr Stark make unmonitored by any AI’s out of privacy. Once the door was closed it was a straight shot to the window, which had been bolted shut. As if that would stop a superpowered teenager. 

“I’m really sorry about this Mr Stark.” Peter couldn't help but apologize to thin air as he forced the window to open, bolts popping free and falling to the floor. He knew he’d get in trouble for it, but he couldn't ignore someone in need. He leapt through the window and into the night air, alone and unarmed. 

Mr Stark had taken his suit and webs when he’d been put on bedrest and he’d had to leave them behind, but he still had his senses, sticky abilities and his strength. He followed the tingling in his spine and the crying screams of the women in need through the city until he found her and dropped down into the street. 

It was cold out and with just sweat pants and a shirt, Peter shivered, feeling practically naked without his mask on. He’d have to be careful about how he used his powers. 

The women who had screamed was crying, standing in the deserted street with her hands towards a man, begging him to let someone go. 

“Please, you’re scaring her! Just give her back to me. You don’t have to do this.”

Peter kept a careful distance until he knew what was happening, crouching behind a car and peeking around the side to see the man in question, arm wrapped around a toddler who was quietly crying, reaching for the woman. 

“You’re the one that took her from me. She’s my daughter, Eileen!”

Peter poised, ready to run at the man, and take him down but he’d have to be careful about the knife in his hand. Without his webs, he couldn't take him down unless he fought him up close. He’d have to be sure to get the girl out of harm's way first. 

“I told you to choose us or choose your mob friends and you chose them, Eric! I left you! The court said-”

“I don’t care what the court says, she's mine and I’m going to raise her right.”

The little girl started crying again and the knife that Eric was holding behind her glinted in the moonlight. Peter carefully moved back into the shadows, making his way around until he was behind Eric, ready to strike. 

His bare feet were freezing on the cold concrete and the wind cut straight through his shirt but he moved onwards, about ready to move forward when his spidey senses tingled again and he turned, hearing tuning into a van moving closer towards them. 

Eric smiled at the noise, he must be expecting backup. Peter had to make his move now. 

He lunged forward, yanking the knife from the man's hand and throwing it behind him before grabbing the girl. Eric was surprised, stumbling back as Peter shoved him, before sprinting over to Eileen to hand her the crying girl.

“Take her and run!”

But it was too late, the van came swerving down the street and came to a stop in the middle of the road, cutting off their exit. 

Three men got out and one grabbed the girl, shoving her in the van and pushing Eileen away before zooming off again. 

Eileen screamed for her child but Peter didn’t have time to help her. His spidey senses screamed once more but his injuries made him slow and he didn’t move in time to dodge the boot that came slamming into his back. 

He cried out, having turned enough that the kick landed at his ribs and not on his kidneys outright but there was no doubt that it did some damage. He went sprawling to the ground, hands grazing lightly on the concrete as he caught himself. 

“Who do you think you are, getting involved? This is a family matter.”

Peter crawled backwards on the ground, as the man above him scowled at his snark. “Doesn’t seem like much of a family to me. More of a kidnapping I’d say.”

Eric growled, furious, and sent another boot towards Peters' face. But he wasn’t fast enough, ankle caught in Peters grip before he could land it. 

“Nice try, ass face but you used that move already.” He yanked Eric's leg towards him, making the scumbag trip so, that he could pin him to the ground. 

Gritting his teeth through the pain of moving around, Peter tugged Eric's belt from his pants and used it to tie his hands before tying his shoelaces together. Eric swore and struggled but was bound tightly and Peter ran down the street towards the woman. 

“Make sure he gets picked up by police, I’m going to get your kid back!” He ran past her shocked face, catching her nod just before he turned and booked it after the van. It had a minute head start but he could make it up by cutting across streets and buildings. 

His back and ribs burned and he knew he’d broken some more ribs but that little girl needed him. He pushed himself harder down the road, bare feet striking the damp concrete as he ran as fast as his sprained ankle could take him. 

Finally, he could see the van as it drove down roads and back streets. He pushed harder, catching it up until he could jump onto the back of it, palms and toes sticking to the back door as he wrenched the other one open. 

The men inside looked very surprised to see a pyjama clad teenager force his way inside and quickly tried to get him out, shoving and kicking at him. 

He took the hits, still making his way inside and working on taking them out. He threw two men out the back, unable to find it in himself to care much if the kidnappers had a rough landing. 

The van swerved from the shifting around, the driver panicking as the two remaining men in the van tried to fight Peter off. The little girl was held in one man's arms, crying as she watched the violence unfold. 

Peter didn’t want to scare her but he needed to stop the remaining two men somehow and was just about to grab the girl and then knock the bad guys' heads together like he’d seen in cartoons when a siren blared out.

“This is the police! Pull over!”

Thank goodness. Peter hadn’t been sure he could go on for much longer. His chest and back screamed with pain and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. 

The driver cursed but didn’t make any move to comply, instead, speeding up and swerving around a corner. Peter leapt forward, pushing one man's head into the side of the van and knocking him out before leaning over and wrapping an arm around the driver's neck. 

“Pull over, right now.”

The man reluctantly did as he was told, stopping the van in the middle of the street. “Who the hell are you?”

Peter could hear the cops approaching and the adrenaline spike from the fight was coming down. “I’m-unnggg this is where I’m supposed to say a cool line but I’m actually just in a lot of pain.”

His back and his stomach hurt so bad and he was sure he was going to throw up soon if he didn’t get out of the van. “I’m gonna get out of here but you have fun in jail, bad-guy. It was nice apprehending you.”

His head spun and his ankle screamed in pain with each step he took but he managed to slip out of the van and through the street without the cops spotting him. He waited a moment, to make sure everything was okay, watching the mother jump out of the cop car to race to her daughter before he took his leave. 

By that point, after the chase and the takedown, he was too far away from the compound to make it on foot but Ned’s place wasn’t too far. Peter really wished he had his suit or phone at least. 

The street was as quiet as it got in New York at three in the morning and he could still distantly hear the grateful mother talking to her daughter. Peter may have been in a lot of pain but at least it had been worth it. 

And there was a lot of pain. Too much in fact. Peter groaned, knees bending as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. His head spun and his chest tensed up at the pain, making it impossible to get anything more than one strained breath in at a time. 

He closed his eyes and focused on taking in even, deep breaths, eyes watering from the pain. “Come on, Peter. You can make it. Just get to Ned’s and everything will be fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, something was really wrong. It wasn’t just a sore muscle or broken ribs. His kidneys hurt so bad he could barely move and Bruce had already warned him about needing to protect them. He could have internal bleeding or wrecked his kidneys up even more. And he was all alone.

He couldn't stand up while his back was screaming. His knees gave out, head spinning dangerously as he curled up on the pavement, whimpers slipping past his lips. “Dammit. I don’t know if I can do this. I wish Mr Stark was here.”

The teenager dragged in another wheeze, throat constricting with anxiety as he came worryingly close to having a panic attack. But it wouldn’t help, it would only waste time and make it harder to move. So, no matter how scared he was or how much pain he was in he could not fall apart. Because if he died in the street after breaking the rules...Tony would kill him.

“I should have listened. I should have listened. Why am I such an idiot?”

Peter may have wished he wasn’t hurt but no matter how awful he felt, deep down he knew that he would still have chosen to save the women and the girl, even if he knew the outcome. He would never put himself before others, it just wasn’t in him.

If only someone would save him. 

Peter shivered against the ground, damp beginning to seep through his pyjamas and he knew he had to move. He couldn't waste any more time laying there. 

So he pressed his palms to the ground and pushed himself up, a groan pulling from him at the pain. But on he went. He blinked the blurry vision away and wrapped an arm around his chest as he coughed and even though he was sure he’d screwed up his sprained ankle, he kept walking. 

Stopping meant giving up and he wasn’t a quitter. “I can do it. I have to do it.”

The pain was almost blinding, growing worse with each step but soon he was just around the corner from Ned's place. 

Stones and glass stabbed into the bare soles of his feet, the cold numbing his toes but he almost didn’t feel it amongst everything else. 

He was getting closer to safety. He could see Ned's place among the others on his block. He could see the number on the door. His stomach twisted and clenched and his vision swam with black spots. 

“No, unngg.” Something was coming up his throat and he slammed down onto his hands and knees as bright red spilt from his mouth. He gagged, unintentionally breathing in the sharp scent of stomach acid mixed with the heavy smell of blood, only succeeded in twisting his stomach further. 

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he clenched his eyes shut, fingers pressing to the concrete so hard they bleached white as his stomach expelled seemingly everything he’d ever eaten. 

He’d only been hit a few times, how could it be so bad? What had he done?

Peter wasn’t sure he could make it off the ground, his arms wobbling where he held himself up and the puddle he’d left on the ground was so brightly red it frightened him. 

But he was so close. Ned’s house was just down the street. He could make it. 

He dragged his bare feet up and planted them on the ground, pushing himself up till he was standing, albeit wobbly and dizzy. 

“Just one step at a time.” Uncle Ben used to tell Peter that whenever he encountered something difficult or scary and he remembered it now. 

“Just take the next step and then another and another. If you need to take a break that’s okay as long as you don’t give up. You have to keep moving, kiddo.”

Peter missed his voice so much. And he was right all he had to do was keep moving, he was almost there. 

Peters bottom lip wobbled, the porch so close and yet so far, he wanted to collapse and sleep but that wasn’t an option. 

He moved achingly, agonisingly forward until finally, he was climbing the steps to Ned’s door. 

It was the porch he had sat on with Ned a million times, talking and laughing. It was the porch he’d sat on in silence for hours the night Ben died when May hadn’t wanted him home to hear her crying. 

He had finally made it. He slumped against the door, knees giving out and he raised a heavy arm to knock at the wood. 

“Ned. Help...me.”

He hadn’t had the energy to scream, words coming as a tired breath before his body gave out and he crumpled to the ground. 

He slid down the door, back pressed against it as he shivered hard, pain eating at his stomach. It was getting harder to breathe and his eyes wouldn't stay open any longer. 

The lock in the door behind him clicked and he was suddenly falling back, wood against his back pulling away and leaving him to collapse through the doorway as his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“Peter?! Oh my god! Mom! Get the phone! Peter, stay awake, man.”

He wished he could, he wished he could tell his friend not to cry, not to worry but he couldn't seem to be able to do anything but pull in stuttered gasps, through trembling lips. 

He could hear Ned's mother behind them, gasping as she took in the sight of him before running off to get the phone as Ned had asked. 

“Peter, please dude. Just hang on. God, what happened to you?”

The teenager felt drops of water hitting his face as warm familiar hands pulled him up onto folded legs, pressing him against a solid chest as arms wrapped around him and rocked. 

“I’m gonna get Mr Stark here and he’ll fix you up, okay? Open your eyes.” The voice turned into a strangled sob and Peter felt his cheek press against a collarbone, Ned's heart racing against him. 

“Mom, he’s barely breathing! What do I do?!”

Peter felt the arms around him shake, jostling him as Ned yelled. “Stay awake! Don’t go, Pete, please!”

Peter hauled in another wheeze, shallow and stuttered, his eyes fluttering open to see the blurry face of his best friend above him. Ned gasped, looking down at his friend, sniffling as he watched those eyes flutter. 

“Peter?”

Peter had used up the last of his energy. He was done. His eyes fell shut and everything went dark like the snap of a light switch. 

“Peter, don’t close your eyes! Stay awake! D-”


	2. Chapter 2

Ned looked down at Peter, laying in his arms limp and pale and cold. Blood had spilt from his mouth at some point, slicked down his chin and throat, staining the collar of his shirt and Ned was trying very hard not to panic. It wasn’t working.

“No, Mom not an ambulance. He needs Mr Stark!”

Ned's mother stood in the doorway, terrified eyes bouncing from her son to his best friend.

“He needs-”

“I know what he needs Mom! We don’t have time to wait for an ambulance and deal with all their questions! Give me the phone!”

Ned had never yelled at his mother like that in his life but if he didn't call Mr Stark in time Peter would die and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

He sucked in a wet breath, sniffing his tears away as he held Peter closer to his chest with one arm, the other reaching for the phone his mother was handing him. 

He was immensely grateful that Peter had made him memorize Mr Starks number in case of emergencies and he dialled quicker than he ever had before. 

“Ned? You never call unless its an emer-” Tony sounded tired and groggy like he’d just woken up but the teenager didn’t have time to wait. 

Ned had wanted to stay calm, to be brave and do whatever Peter needed of him but as soon as he heard Tony's voice his bottom lip began to wobble and he choked on a sob, rocking Peter back and forth on the step. 

“He won’t wake up.”

Ned could hear Tony holding his breath over the phone before it came back, panicked and strained like his throat was closing more with each word. 

“What happened?” There was no need for Tony to ask who he was talking about because of course, it was about Peter. 

Ned shook his head, pressing his forehead to the top of Peters' head where it lay on his shoulder. “I don’t know. I found him passed out barely breathing on my porch. Mr Stark, there's b-blood. I think it came from his mouth. There's a lot of it.”

Ned could hear sheets rustling through the phone as Tony got up and started running through the compound. “Fuck. Okay, it’s going to be okay. Just keep him warm and keep an eye on his breathing. We’ll be there in two minutes.”

Ned honestly wasn’t sure if they had that long. Each of Peters breaths sounded wet and thin and Ned didn’t know what to do if they stopped. But he trusted Mr Stark. 

“Okay.”

He put the phone on speaker and put it down, turning to his mom who was still waiting behind him, hand over her mouth. He kept his voice soft to make up for he yelled at her earlier. 

“Mom, he needs a blanket.”

He turned just enough to see her nod and run off, looking back down at Peter and gently pressing two fingers to his throat. His pulse was weak and thready but it was there and he sighed, taking the blanket his mother offered. 

“You better be okay, Peter. Cause if you’re not I won’t forgive you.”

His mom helped him wrap Peter up in the blanket, kneeling beside her son and trying to understand what was going on. “Honey, what happened to him? Why can’t we call an ambulance? I really think he needs-”

Ned tried again, stressed enough without the barrage of questions. “Mom, I can’t do this right now.”

“How do you know Tony Stark's number?”

Ned tried not to cry, breath hitching as he watched Peters chest rise and fall in stuttered pants. “I’ll explain later. We just need to wait for Mr Stark to get here so, Peter can get help.”

She wanted to know more, of course, she did but she could see how close her son was to breaking and she saved the questions for later. “Okay, honey. It’ll be alright.”

Ned wasn’t so sure, especially not when Tony almost fell to his knees at the sight of Peter. When he arrived, his own ambulance pulling up, barely parking before he jumped out, Ned could see his face instantly pale. 

He ran to the two teenagers and dropped to his knees, hand thrusting to Peters' throat to check his pulse. It was far from stable and he quickly turned to where Bruce was pulling a stretcher towards them. 

“Hurry! His pulse is fading!”

Bruce and Tony pulled Peter out of Ned's arms and onto the stretcher, tearing his shirt down the front as they ran to the ambulance. 

Ned raced after them, his mother's hand catching his arm at the bottom step. “Sweetheart, you can’t go with them!”

Tony and Bruce were already loading Peter up to take him away, talking about internal bleeding and shock. 

“Mom, I have to! If anything happens to him-!” He pulled on her grip, eyes glued to his best friend who was having a mask put over his face as someone pumped the bag to force air into his lungs and Ned had watched enough medical dramas to know it was bad. 

“Mom, please I can’t leave him! He's my best friend!”

He was tugging against her, no matter what she did he wouldn’t be staying. 

She let him go and Ned ran over to the ambulance, jumping in the back just as they were strapping Peter in. 

“Steve, get us moving!”

Bruce was leaning over the kid, hands pressing down on Peters' stomach as he concentrated. His eyebrows came down over his glasses and he shook his head, grabbing supplies. “He's got to be bleeding in the belly, he needs to be in surgery.”

Ned gripped the seat beneath him as they sped down the road Peter swaying slightly under the straps as the ambulance rocked. Natasha was squeezing the bag over Peter's face and Tony was watching as helplessly as Ned was. 

“I need to tape this line down, where’s the- Shit, he’s bottoming out. Grab the epinephrine!”

Ned started crying again, throat closing up as he watched Peter being worked on. Tony turned to the kid, the same look of fear in his eyes and he wrapped an arm around him, pulling Neds face to his shoulder. “Don’t look, kid. It’ll be okay.”

Ned shoved his face into Tony's shirt, closing his eyes and gripping his arm tight. But he could still hear the whine of defibrillators and flinched with each shock and slap of Peters back against the stretcher. 

The only thing he could do was hope and pray that his best friend would be okay so that he could yell at him for whatever stupid thing he did to get himself hurt. 

Tony held the kid close, wishing he could do the same with Peter. With all the commotion going on in the small space it was difficult to even hear himself think but he was able to make out the words Ned kept mumbling to himself against his arm. 

“No, no, no. Don’t let him die. Please god, don’t let him die.”

Tony felt his shirt growing wet where Ned cried into it and almost started up himself when Bruce finally sighed and declared Peters pulse returned. 

Tony didn’t dare move but Ned managed to slip a hand out and snag Peters where it laid limp on the stretcher. He gripped those fingers so tight his own turned white and Tony only held the kid harder.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Peter woke to a great deal of pain. His head pounded, his back and chest ached and his ankle was so sore he didn’t want to move it ever again. But he could also feel the tell-tale pinch of an IV taped to the back of his hand and the annoying tug of monitors on his chest.

He didn’t need to open his eyes to recognise what the rounded plastic in his hand was for and he pushed the button on the pain pump, sighing quietly at the cool flush of pain meds. 

The tapping of shoes against tiles was the only indication of another person in the room and he opened his eyes to see Tony pacing at the end of his bed. He looked upset, understandably so, and he didn’t say anything first so, Peter took a moment to collect himself and look around. 

He was in a bed in the infirmary, the curtains were open and the sky outside was bright, the sun high among the clouds which meant either it was the day after that terrible failure of a night or possibly even a few days after. There wasn’t any way to tell without asking but he had a different question in mind. 

Like, why the hell were there wide, thick straps across his ankles, knees and hips. They laid atop his blankets, not really strong enough to stop Peter if he really wanted to leave, but more of a visual threat. 

Tony had promised him he’d strap him down if he left the bed, Peter just hadn’t been expecting him to follow through. “Really? Restraints?”

Tony didn’t look surprised to hear him speak because of course, he would have noticed the moment Peter started to wake up. He didn’t stop his pacing, one hand massaging the other the way he did whenever he was stressed. 

“I told you to stay in bed.” His voice was hard, his eyes not yet meeting Peters. He was angry but his fidgeting hands told Peter he was also scared. 

“Mr Sta-“

“Don’t.” His voice was so hard Peter almost flinched, eyes dipping back down to his blanket. “You almost died. Again.”

Peter wrapped a careful arm around his chest as he pulled measured breaths through his nose, oxygen cannula providing him with the help he needed. 

He knew that no matter what he said, he’d still get a lecture but he wanted to explain himself. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

Tony stopped pacing, facing Peter with all his anger written plainly on his face. “I know what it’s like to be a hero, to feel responsible for other people’s lives but you can’t go looking for danger just because you know it’s there.”

Peter didn’t want to yell and he didn’t want to cry but the weight of guilt and duty lay so heavily on his chest that he couldn’t help himself. 

“I don’t go looking for it! I can hear it!”

Tony stopped, anger melting from his face as he stood back watching the teenager grip at his sheets, the pain in his voice too deep to be taken away with morphine. 

“Every night I lay in bed and I try to block it out but I can hear them. People crying, calling for help. I can feel it too. It’s like this awful feeling crawling up my spine and I can’t just sit there.” 

He shook his head, watching Mr Stark watching him. “So, no. You don’t know what it’s like. I can’t just ignore them. I can’t let someone else lose what I did.” 

Peter wiped his eyes, sniffling, upset and exhausted. He expected Tony to tell him off again or...something. But he didn’t say a word. He stood there for a moment, gaze stuck to Peters damp cheeks. 

And then he just left. He walked out and shut the door behind him without another word. Peter wasn’t sure what to do with that. He clearly couldn’t go after him but he wasn’t sure if he’d made things better or worse. 

He hadn’t expected any other visitors, except for maybe Bruce or the other Avengers but certainly not his best friend. But the moment he walked in Peter remembered what had happened. 

“Ned.” The teenager stood in the doorway, expression a mix of emotions all equally strong and fighting for dominance. Peter was almost afraid of what he’d say. 

“Ned, let me explain-“

The teenager stormed in, apparently having decided on anger, coming to the side of the bed and smacking a palm on Peters' arm. 

“Fuck you!” His eyes were already misting over and Peter tried reaching for him. 

“Ned-“

He earned another smack on the arm. “You were supposed to be healing! You were on bed rest, Peter!”

“I'm sorry.” He was. He hated that Ned had to see him like that and to see him so upset because of him.

“And then you just show up on my doorstep at two am barely breathing!”

“I know-”

Ned’s voice was losing its stability, wobbling as his bottom lip trembled, tears spilling over onto his flushed cheeks.

“You almost died!”

“Ned-”

The teenager's hand smacked on the arm again but instead of pulling away he gripped Peters' shoulder and sat on the side of the bed, tipping forward to hug his best friend. 

He pressed his face to Peters' neck and cried just like he’d done with Tony in the ambulance. “I was so scared. I thought you were going to die.”

Peter closed his eyes and hugged the boy back, feeling awful and guilty for what he’d done. 

“I know. I'm sorry, Ned. I'm so sorry.”

Ned’s voice was somewhat muffled but Peter heard him clear as day.

“Don't do that again, okay? Ever.”

Peter knew that he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t get hurt again but he could make sure that Ned wouldn’t have to see it again. And that was about as close as he could get. 

“I won't. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more coming soon!
> 
> also lol I forgot the end scene with ned and tony in the infirmary with peter so lol edited it


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so works been crazy and today everyone just went insane so im so tired idk if this makes sense ive been writing at work when i can and typing it up on my breaks so if there are errors or its kind of rambly im sorry i hope you like it tho

Tony didn’t come back. At least not right away and it seemed as though everyone was just as confused about it as Peter was. 

“I saw him leave. He just...walked out. Straight from your room to the front door. I don’t know where he went. I think he said something about needing to find someone but that’s all I got. Sorry, kid.”

Peter hung his head, worried for his mentor. “It’s my fault.” 

Rhodey sighed, adjusting the ice pack laid across Peters' ankle to help with the swelling that his enhanced healing exacerbated. “Look, kid, I’m not going to deny that you screwed up but at least you screwed up for the right reasons. He’ll forgive you, just give him time.”

Peter crossed his arms, hugging himself under his blanket, voice small. “He was so mad. I’ve never seen him like that.”

Rhodey’s heart ached for the kid, protective Uncle instincts kicking in for his best friends kid. He settled Peters foot under the blankets and came to sit on the edge of the teenager's bed, tucking the nasal cannula back behind Peters ear where it had sprung free. 

“He was scared he was going to lose you, Pete. He’s not very good at dealing with that. I don’t think anyone is, to be honest.”

Peter nodded, eyes pricking with tears again as he thought about how many people he hurt trying to save that one little girl and her mother. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted to help.”

Rhodey sighed and shifted again, sitting right beside Peter so that he could hug the kid to his side. “I know, buddy.”

Rhodey spent half an hour cheering Peter up again before he was replaced by Steve and then Natasha and then Sam. Peter knew that they weren’t just there to keep him company but to also keep an eye on him and their rotating shifts meant that he got a new lecture every hour. 

“You can’t be running into danger like that without thinking.”

“Ask for help when you need it.”

“Let the police do their job.”

“You took on that many guys while still hurt? Damn, that's impressive!” Bruce narrowed his eyes at Scott, mouth set in a straight line, clearly unhappy and Scott quickly explained.

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea but that woman got her kid back safe and sound because of Spider-boy and it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing. He knew the risks and he chose their safety over his. Isn’t that what heroes do?”

 

Peter shifted uncomfortably as Bruce adjusted the catheter tube running down the side of his bed, checking his urine output and whatever other information his monitors were spitting out. “Not when those heroes are still in school and have been ordered to stay in bed, lest they get hurt again and die. Jumping out his window and fighting crime with bruised kidneys while in his pyjamas wasn’t his only option. He could have asked for help or called the police or asked one of us to sort it out.”

Scott nodded along with what the doctor was saying, not at all eager to get kicked out of the Avengers clubhouse for encouraging their youngest member in dangerous activities. 

“That’s true. Sorry, Peter, he’s right. You can’t do everything on your own.”

Peter crossed his arms and looked out the window, tired of the repetitive speeches. “I get it. How many more times do I have to listen to everyone tell me off?”

Bruce tapped at his tablet, writing down all the new information he’d gathered. “Well, that depends on whether or not you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Peter was about to get himself into trouble again with a snarky comment when Friday’s voice came over the speakers. 

“The boss has returned and he's brought a friend.”

Both Peter and Bruce perked up at that and Scott and the doctor made their way out the door. Bruce pointed to the kid in the bed before he left. “Stay.”

Peter rolled his eyes but obliged, shifting a little in his bed, trying to get into a comfier position as he listened to the voices and shuffling of footsteps throughout the compound. 

He could hear Tony talking to the others, answering their questions of where he’d been and what he’d been doing. “I needed to get something for Peter and I found it.”

“I prefer Matt to ‘it’ but thanks.”

“Who is this guy? No, offence, man.” Sam sounded as confused as Peter felt but Tony didn’t offer a sound explanation. 

“Someone that Peter needs to talk to. Come on, Matt.”

Peter waited, watching the door as he listened to their footsteps coming closer until Tony pushed the door open, a man in a suit walking in behind him. 

“Peter, you’re still in bed. That's a first.” 

Peter couldn’t help roll his eyes but he supposed he deserved it and stayed quiet as Tony gestured to the man beside him. “Peter, I’d like you to meet Matt. I thought you two would have more in common than we do.”

That stung, Tony was clearly hurt but it wasn’t like Peter had wanted to shove that wall between them. Matt shifted somewhat uncomfortably, lifting one hand off his cane to adjust his red tinted glasses, as Tony continued. 

“You two should talk.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but Tony turned and left before he could, leaving him with Matt who made his way to Peters bed. He didn’t appear to actually be using the cane at all and even though he appeared to be blind, he had no trouble finding the chair beside Peters bed and sitting down. 

“Hello, Peter. As Tony said, my names Matt. He asked me to talk to you about your...incident.”

Peter looked the man over, still very much confused as to what was going on. “No offence but...why? Who are you?”

He asked as politely as he could, given the circumstance and Matt tilted his head slightly. “Have you heard of the devil of New York?”

Peter nodded, growing excited. “Of course! I saw him beating up some ninjas in an alley once but Mr Stark says I shouldn't get involved with vigilantes I don’t know so- wait! Are you him?!”

The corner of Matts' mouth quirked up and he nodded, hands perched on his half folded cane. 

Peters' eyes widened, taking in the man in a new light. “Wow! That’s so cool! But...wait, aren’t you blind?”

Given the cane, the dark glasses inside and the fact that Matts gaze was pointed to Peters' chin, the man finding Peter's face by following his voice, it seemed as though he must have been blind. And if not, he was a dick for pretending. 

Matt nodded, taking his glasses off to reveal his blank gaze and Peter watched him carefully. “Yes, but the accident that took my sight also gave me...other abilities. Much like yours, or so I heard from Tony.”

Peter smiled, trying to sit up only to be met with the tug of leather as the strap Tony had insisted stay across his stomach pressed him back down to the bed. “You’re a spider too?”

Matt let out a small laugh and shook his head. “No, but my senses are incredibly sensitive. I can hear heartbeats and smell things from rooms away. Tony told me you know what that's like.”

Peter nodded though he knew Matt couldn’t see him. “Yeah! I mean, I don’t think mine are as sensitive as yours but they definitely aren't normal. The first day I got my powers I couldn't leave my room because it was all too much. I had a migraine for three days until they finally calmed down.”

Matt nodded. “I know what that's like. Tony told me about what happened. You told him that you couldn't ignore that woman's screams for help.”

Peters excitement dissipated, leaving the same guilt and morose weight in his chest that he’d had since waking up in the infirmary. “He doesn’t have to lay in bed listening to people crying for help at night. I couldn't just sit here.”

Matt leaned forward a little, fingers tapping on his cane as he spoke. “That's the exact reason I am Daredevil. I tried to let the police take it, let the law handle it but...it doesn’t always work. Sometimes all that seems to help is someone in the street, taking the hits for everyone else.”

Peter nodded vigorously, pleased to have someone who understood, finally. “Exactly! Not everyone can do what I can, so don’t I have a duty to use my powers to help people?”

Matt nodded again. “Sure. Lots of people in this city need help we can’t just sit back and let them get hurt.”

Peter tried to sit up again, straps tugging him down but he went still when Matt’s words suddenly veered in a different direction. 

“But that's why we have the police and firefighters and medics and lawyers. That’s why they have shifts and teams to work together. They want to help too. That's their job, that they actually get paid for, unlike us.”

Peter felt like he had whiplash, suddenly jerked back and shoved down to earth. “What?”

Matt shifted in his chair, gesturing to Peter as he lay in the bed. “We don’t get paid for this. We don’t get called in to help, we go looking for trouble.”

“No, but-”

“The law doesn’t always work but a lot of the toke it does. And when it doesn’t there are other people to handle it when you can’t. You should use your powers to help people, of course, you should but you aren’t the only one in the city that's trying to save others.”

Peter felt cheated. He'd been presented with someone who knew exactly what he was feeling, he was pulled in and lured by the promise of understanding and now the rug was being pulled out from under him and revealing just another lecture. 

He lay back, glaring up at the ceiling as he listened. “I know how hard it is to leave that responsibility to others. I tried to save people by going to court and pleading cases, fighting for people's rights and lives and when I saw someone in trouble I called the police.”

Peter was annoyed, his voice coming petulant and sulky which only irritated him more. “Sometimes you don’t have time for that. It doesn’t always work.”

“Peter, if you put the weight of the whole city on your shoulders, it’ll crush you and you won't be able to save anyone.”

Peter rolled his eyes, voice raising as his temper grew short. “I’m not more important than anyone else! I don’t care if I get hurt! No one deserves to lose the people they love and if I can prevent it then I will!”

Matt sighed, sitting closer as he tried to explain. “I lost someone too. And whoever you lost, that wasn’t your fault. But that feeling that you have, that guilt and the weight in your chest that you feel whenever you think about how you could have saved them...that's what you’re giving everyone else.”

Peter sniffled, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. He hated that Matt was right. 

“There was a really dangerous man going around hurting people a while back. My best friend told me to leave it alone, that we could stop the guy through the courts, with the law on our side. And I ignored him. Do you know what happened?”

Peter had a feeling he was wrong but there was no harm in trying right? “You took him down, saved the day and your friend learned to trust you?”

Matt didn’t go easy on him, voice calm with no trace humour. “I got shot in the head. The only reason I was alive was because of my helmet. Foggy found me bleeding and unconscious and dragged me home before anyone could see us. I’m lucky he even talked to me again after that.”

Peter looked away, thinking about how Ned had held him and begged him to stay awake, crying over the best friend he thought was dying in his arms. 

Matts voice softened, not trying to hurt the kid just needing to make him understand. “Being a hero means valuing others lives above your own. But your friends and family love you more than anyone in the world and they’ll do anything to keep you safe. So, next time you have to decide whether or not to put yourself at risk to save someone else, don’t choose between you and them. Choose your family and choose to let someone else take the weight until you can do it again.”

That actually made sense. Peter looked back at the man, watching him lean back in his chair and shake his head almost to himself. 

“Don’t fight when you’re hurt or take on more than you’re able to. Or you’ll end up in a dumpster being fished out by a very grumpy but caring nurse.”

Okay, that didn’t make any sense at all. “Huh?” 

Matt sat back up, amending. “Don’t worry about it. So, you understand, now?”

Peter nodded, finally broken down after endless lectures and telling offs. “Yeah, I get it. I’m just one spider in a city full of heroes.” 

Matt smiled and put his glasses back on, nodding. “You got it. And hey, if you ever need a hand or just want to talk again, I'm always around. It was nice to meet you Spider-Man.”

He left, shaking hands with Peter before making his way out the door and Peter watched, hoping Tony would come through the doorway and talk to him. 

He waited, listening to footsteps approach but slumped back into his pillows when Steve came through, closing the door behind him. His shifting around sent a spike of pain through his back and he grabbed the pain pump and pressed the button, muscles melting with the flush of meds.

“Hey, Peter. How’d the talk go?”

Peter turned back to the window, away from Steve, disappointed. “Fine. I learnt my lesson, Mr Stark can come back, now.”

Steve sat in the chair Matt had just occupied, he hesitated, not sure how to explain. “Buddy...look, he just needs some more time to...collect himself.”

Peter was tired and with the new pain meds running through his system and his body still healing it was hard to keep all his emotions at bay. His eyes pricked with tears and his breaths stuttered as his bottom lip wobbled. 

“He’s still mad at me.” 

Steve looked panicked at the sight of the kid crying and he struggled to deny the accusation. “No, he just...well, he was worried and you know he kind of turns everything into a dramatic performance.”

Peter couldn't help it. He felt horrible for making everyone upset and worried and the way Tony had yelled at him before storming out made it worse. “I made him leave and now he doesnt want to see me. But I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at him.”

Steve cursed under his breath, not knowing what to do as Peter started to wail. “Kid, stop, that's not what-”

“Mr Stark hates me and it’s all my fault! Now everyone's worried all over again and he won’t come back!”

Steve stood from his seat, hands reaching for Peter before he gave up and ran to the door, sticking his head out and yelling down the hallway. “Tony, get in here!”

Peter cried, shoulders shaking as footsteps came pounding down the hall, Tony running into the room to see what the fuss was about. His eyes widened at the sight of the teenager sobbing miserably in his bed and he ran past Steve to get to Peter. 

“Hey, what's wrong? What happened? Are you in pain?”

Peter hiccuped, cheeks wet and flushed pink as he reached for his mentor. “I’m sorry I made you mad! Please don’t leave again!”

Tony sat on the edge of the bed and unhooked the strap across Peters' stomach before pulling him into a hug. “Oh, buddy. I won’t leave you. Calm down.”

Steve watched the two for a moment before leaving, knowing they needed time alone to sort everything out. 

Peter hugged Tony back so tight he had to remind himself to be careful, crying into Tony's shoulder. “I’m sorry I broke the monitor and left when you told me not to. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

The poor kid was heaving I’m rattled breaths in between sobs, gripping Tony’s shirt in his trembling hands. Tony rubbed his back, hugging him tightly. 

“I’m glad to hear that, Peter. Hey, calm down. You’re okay. What’s gotten you so upset? What did Matt say?”

Peter leaves his cheek on Tony’s shoulder, tears soaking his mentor's shirt as he hiccuped. “He went out when his friend told him not to and he got h-hurt. He said he was l-lucky that Foggy ever spoke to him again. I don’t want you to leave me just cause I made you mad.”

Tony let out a little huffed laugh, pressing his cheek to the top of Peters' head. “Aw, buddy there’s nothing you could ever do to make me leave you or never speak to you again. I love you way too much for that.” 

Peters crying was slowing down, breaths coming deeper and calmer and he nodded. “Good. I love you too.”

He was growing heavy on Tony’s shoulder and he rubbed Peters back. “Petey? You falling asleep?”

Peter nodded, humming an affirmative. “Mhmm hmm.”

Tony smiled and laid him back in the bed, Peters eyes opening as he held on. “No, you said you wouldn’t go.”

The poor kid was so tired after such a long day. Tony tucked him in as much as he could with Peters hands clutching his shirt so tight. 

“I’m not leaving. I’ll stay with you.”

Peter sighed, eyes closing again as he let go. “Thanks. 

The meds were melting Peters' brain, or at least that’s what it felt like and he whined, hands reaching out again. “Mr Stark I can’t see you with my eyes closed. Can you hold my hand?”

Tony laughed again and caught Peters hand with his own. “Sure, Pete. Go to sleep.”

“Okay. Night night.” Peter slipped into a world of dreams and Tony watched him, smiling. 

“Night night, Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think thats the last chapter im already qworking pn the next fic so hopefully that will be up soonish when i get a break from work please tell me what you thunk thaks


End file.
